The Eighth Pin
by lady-warrioress
Summary: What if Slick Pulled out that pin? snowslick oneshot


A black pin.

Spades Slick stared thoughtfully at the voodoo doll he'd take from Die. All the pins had been removed except one. It stayed in the doll, marring the lime, green colored head.

Earlier he'd removed all the pins after retrieving the doll from Miss Paint, reviving the members of the Felt, a rival gang to his own, the Midnight Crew. Since his own gang had been killed three years prier he required new members to finish the job he'd started. Ending the existence of Lord English. Now the only pin remaining was the black one, the eight pin.. Snowman's pin.

Snowman, the female member of the felt, also the former black queen of his home planet of derse. A tall, black shelled carapace woman with ice cold with eyes in a trench coat. His Kisemis.

Snowman, the product of his seething, black hatred, the reason he was who he was today, that evil, dreadful woman. The universe.

He'd killed her.

It had not been satisfying.

Slick reached out and gently touched the pin with the tip of his finger. Part of him wanted to pull it out, just to see what would happen, but the logical side of him held back. He couldn't, no way. Who knew what else would happen if he did such a thing?

Snowman was the universe. If he brought her back she might just bring something crazy and messed up with her, something nobody could fix.

Nope. It was best that pin stayed where it was.

He pulled his hand back and was about to pocket the doll but stopped, looking back at that pin one final time. Memories started going through his mind and he reminisced a moment to relive all the annoying misadventures he'd had with her, from her making him wear stupid clothing to her stuffing her cigarette holder into his eye. It reminded him of how much he hated her guts.

"Hmmm! She deserves to stay dead, I don't need anymore of that crap," he told himself, through gritted teeth.

He shoved that doll back into his pocket and started walking out of the room.

You sure you don't want to pull that pin? a voice in his head questioned.

Of course. he was dead certain.

I don't think you are, it argued. I think you want to pull it out.

I don't!

You do. The voice continued to insist. You miss her, you just won't admit it. Even after all the crap she did to you, you miss her because without her you don't really have a reason to live. Yeah, Miss Paint makes you feel things you've never felt before but is she really the same? Are you really just using her as a replacement for the one you really care about?

I do not, now stop saying that! As for how he felt about Miss Paint it wasn't really their business. Paint was a kind and sweet gal, unlike the hag he'd blown to kingdom come.

But the voice wasn't convinced. Then why did you keep the doll instead of throwing it away?

Why? he paused. Because, if these mugs die, I can put the pins back and pull them out again. They'll die but they won't stay dead. That's why I kept it.

You're lying.

Slick gritted his teeth, his robotic hand gripping the doll in his pocket. Okay, so I'm lying, he was willing to admit, just to shut it up. What difference does it make? I can't pull it out, who knows what would happen if I did?

You won't know until you do it.

The mobster took the doll out and stared at that pin once more. He shouldn't do it, it was a bad idea... but... how could he not?

That woman, Snowman, was terrible, an menace, she was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. She'd been a thorn in his side from day one! She'd made him miserable and laughed about it. She was selfish, vain, and a snob.

Yet... She was more than just a problem, she was more than the source of his misery. She was... she was...

She was his universe.

Yes, that was exactly what she was. Even with all the pain, all the terrible things she'd put him through, she was the first person he'd had any form of "romantic" relationship with, even if it had been black as a starless sky. She'd been the one constant in his life and her very existence had prompted him to do things to the best of his ability, even if it had just been for the purpose of rubbing it into her face.

So no, he couldn't just leave that pin in. No matter the consequence he couldn't leave it.

Before he knew what he was doing, he'd yanked it out and braced himself for the outcome. But there was no black hole forming, there weren't any supernovas or dying planets, Nothing like that happened, everything was the same.

Wait! It wasn't.

Behind him he could feel a presence, a strong female presence. One that held an air of superiority and black loathing. It was familiar and he was tempted to turn to satisfy his curiosity.

But he didn't have to. Two black, carapaced arms clad in dark, green leather encircled his waist and he felt a weight on his back, warm and real. The mobster dropped the doll to the floor, a smirk crossing his face.

Yeah, he knew that presence all right.

"Slick..." a voice whispered as one of those delicately manicured hands reached up and took his chin, turning his head so he could look at her face, into those cold white eyes.

"Hello, bitch," he said, showing a row of sharp, white teeth, "Long time no see."

"I knew you couldn't resist bringing me back, Slick," Snowman spoke, pulling him into a rough kiss.

He kissed her back just as roughly, knowing now everything was just the way he wanted it.


End file.
